


Are You Sure?

by nonelvis



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 10:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonelvis/pseuds/nonelvis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are you sure you want to read this? Because if you do, things will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Sure?

**Author's Note:**

> Crack!fic about one of my least favorite fanfic tropes, written in three self-contained parts, each of which may be read independently. I have no excuse for this story, not even temporary insanity.

**Part I: I Can See Everything ... All That Is ... All That Was ... All That Ever Could Be ... and Oh Bollocks, Let's Shag Already.**

"Romana, are you sure you want to do this?"

Romana sighed and continued unbuttoning her blouse. Goodness, the Doctor could be thick sometimes. He had often told her she should be open to new experiences, but apparently suggesting that "sex" thing his beloved humans seemed to enjoy so much was enough to turn him into a surprisingly cautious man.

"Of course I'm sure, Doctor. We've played twenty-five rounds of ‘I Spy' so far today, and 76.92% of the time you've picked ‘Romana's left nipple' as the answer. I have therefore concluded that you're bored and most likely sexually inquisitive about me, so we might as well attempt intercourse. It's either that, or we spend the day sorting the boxes in your junk closet."

"Heavens, no, anything but that. That junk is arranged very carefully in pseudo-random piles, you know. I'm hoping that given sufficient time, it will achieve enough self-awareness to be recognized as a new form of sentient life." He turned back to the TARDIS console, fiddling pointlessly with some shiny knobs he only vaguely remembered installing, and whose purpose he definitely didn't recall. And they certainly weren't making him think about fiddling with small pointy nubbins on Romana's body, not in the least.

"Sex it is, then," Romana said, removing her jacket and blouse and reaching for his scarf. The Doctor pulled away from her, alarmed.

"Really, Romana. I must ask you again. Are you sure about this?"

"What I'm not sure about is why you keep asking me that question, in particular as I'm standing here with no shirt on, which the primitive pornographic novels in the library have led me to believe is an excellent way to capture your attention."

"I must confess, it is a little distracting." The Doctor reached out to cup Romana's left breast, the one he'd been eyeing earlier in the hopes she'd get the idea of seducing him. He so enjoyed not having to take any responsibility for his actions. And yet –

He snatched his hand back suddenly and pulled himself up straighter in a fruitless attempt to look dignified. "I keep asking that question because I can see all the possible shifts in the timelines, depending on what we do next. In some of them, we have sex on the console room floor, and I end up dislocating my elbow trying to help you perform the Venusian Three-Handed Reverse Cowgirl Twist. In others, I take you roughly against the wall, but you eventually leave me for a man with unfortunate facial hair." He paused to consider other options. "And then there's the timeline in which Adric walks in on us. That one's especially unpleasant."

"Are you saying there are no timelines in which you're certain a proposed sexual encounter ends acceptably?"

"No, I'm simply asking you to apply your time-sensing abilities, inexperienced though you are compared to me, to see whether I'm missing anything."

"You think we're tempting fate by doing this."

"Yes, that's it exactly," he said, nodding.

Romana rolled her eyes, reconsidered her assessment of the Doctor as "thick," and not for the first time, decided "idiot" was a more appropriate term. "Don't be silly. There's no such thing as fate. There are merely possibilities, which to lesser minds, under certain circumstances, are indistinguishable from fate."

Rassilon, she was sexy when she talked down to him. If he were going to let her seduce him, there had to come a point when they shifted from talking to fucking, didn't there? All the timestreams seemed to indicate that now was as good a moment as any, if only because five minutes into the future dramatically increased the chance of an Adric Incident.

The Doctor growled and ripped open his shirt, pressing Romana up against the wall and kissing her with a great deal of force. Romana was half-undressed already, so getting her the rest of the way there took moments, while all he had to do was undo his trousers and enter her. He thrust manfully against her until Romana began to think that perhaps this "sex" thing might prove to be diverting after all, ranking somewhere above rewiring K-9's language-emulation circuitry but below reading a really thrilling textbook on advanced applications of quantum entanglement.

And then the TARDIS console exploded.

"Blast," said the Doctor. "I knew I should have asked the old girl whether _she_ was sure, too."

  
**Part II: It's Just You and Him, Isn't It ... But I'll Shag You Anyway.**

"Doctor, are you ... are you sure this is what you want?"

"Rose, I asked you to come with me because you were the best. Because you were smart, and resourceful, and beautiful." The Doctor gently took Rose's hand, kissed it, and moved it below his waist. "And I'd have thought a smart girl like you would have realized this massive hard-on means I'm sure."

Rose unbuttoned the Doctor's jeans. "I'll be the judge of what's massive – _oh._"

"I told you I was that impressive."

"I just wanted to make sure" – his jumper went flying, Rose leaned down to kiss his neck – "make sure you really wanted this. Because until Jack came on board, it didn't matter how obvious I was, even when I told you I'd forgotten to wear knickers that week. I just didn't think you'd noticed."

"Oh, I'd noticed, Rose," he said, and did something to her earlobe that was illegal on at least three planets but made her writhe around delightfully. "I just couldn't tell if you were sure, though I admit I didn't really start to get the hint until halfway through the Week Without Knickers. One day without, maybe you were running short on laundry. Two days without smacked of carelessness, to quote Oscar Wilde. But four days on, with the little shaved arrow? That's when I realized you were up to something."

"The arrow was Jack's idea. He said if you hadn't made a move by now, maybe you just didn't know where to start."

"Jack's a clever man," the Doctor said, kicking his jeans down to the bottom of the bed and then sliding deep inside Rose, who groaned gratefully in the way only a woman truly satisfied by an enormous cock can groan. "But I'm trying not to think about him right now."

Oh, he was good, Rose thought, very, very good; knew just how to rock his hips in time to the pace she set, knew how his thumbnail flicking over her nipples tautened them and made her want to beg for his tongue there instead. And based on the way he'd wedged a knuckle between their bodies, she suspected he knew not just how to pronounce "clitoris," but also what it was good for, which was, specifically, driving her to a climax she dearly hoped wouldn't be audible beyond, say, this solar system.

"Rose," the Doctor said, breathing heavily as they moved together, "there's something a little unusual I want to try. Do you trust me?"

"Of course, as long as you don't stop what you're doing with your hand – _ah_ – right there."

The Doctor lifted up a hand, touching his fingertips to Rose's temples, and she gasped at the shock of his sensations in her head: the hot, tight warmth he was thrusting into; the hands clutching at him, urging him on; the rough hairs of her legs tickling his shoulders ...

What the _hell ...?_

Hadn't she had a wax job only a week ago?

And weren't her legs straddling the Doctor's waist?

And since when did she have a broad, muscular chest; stunningly blue eyes; and a cocky grin full of perfect teeth?

The Jack in Rose's head flashed his superstar smile and said "You should have just asked me to join in, Doc. I'm _always_ sure."

"I think we're done here," Rose said, climbing off the Doctor and rushing out of the room.

She didn't stop running until she got to her bathroom, where she discovered the sympathetic TARDIS had left her a gift.

"Good girl," Rose said, turning on the hot water and reaching for the extra-powerful shower massager. "_Very_ good girl."

  
**Part III: I'm Not Just a Time Lord ... I'm the Last of the Time Lords. Well, Not Counting You. Fancy a Shag?**

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because it could change everything for us."

"Of course I'm not sure!" the Master snapped. "I'm stuck in this ridiculous female body, and we've only got one way to repopulate the species."

"Don't blame me. I'm not the one who came up with some daft plot about sealing your consciousness in a ring and taking over your widow's body. Not that it isn't a nice body; the tits really work on you. Though – have you thought about trying a Wonderbra? Rose had this little red lace number ..."

"Looms," muttered the Master. "I should have just built a damned Loom. It would have been easier and less embarrassing than this."

"Looms lack romance," said the Doctor, his hand drifting unsubtly up the Master's skirt.

"Yes, and the console room is just chock-full of romance, isn't it? That slick little calibration ball just begging to be shoved up someone's arse, and the bicycle pump – what _have_ you been using that for, anyway? – not to mention that the Time Rotor's nothing but a giant phallic symbol, moving up and down, up and down ... and then there's the mood lighting, I mean, all you need is a disco ball and some leopard print on the captain's chair to complete your little bachelor pad. Honestly, it's a wonder I'm not on my knees already."

The Doctor tugged down the Master's thong and started working two fingers on either side of her clit. "For someone who just said she wasn't sure about this, you're awfully moist." He unzipped his trousers and positioned himself between her legs. "And you are sure, aren't you?"

"Stop saying that!" the Master yelled. "Why would anyone ever ask that question before a shag? It's not like my pussy is accidentally going to trip and fall over your cock, is it? Now fuck me or don't fuck me, just pick one, or so help me, I'll strap on that Mr. Throbby I found in your ex-girlfriend's room and give you a good seeing-to myself."

"There's no need to shout. I was just about to get to the good part."

"As if I'd be able to tell," grumbled the Master, but any further complaints were quickly overwhelmed by moans of pleasure as the Doctor pounded into her, grinding hard against her until her nails left scratch marks in his back. She came unexpectedly soon, and the Doctor followed after, choking out a string of barely intelligible syllables that might have been "Rose," "Jack," possibly even "Jackie."

The Master slid down to the floor, pulling back her knees and raising her pelvis slightly. There was no way to tell this early on whether the repopulation attempt had been successful, but no point in wasting things, either. She felt a sudden and unfamiliar twinge she thought might be latent maternal instinct, or more likely, the takeaway curry the cheap bastard had bought her for dinner.

"I – I can't believe we just did that. All those times I shagged Lucy, it was never about creating new life." The Master slowly shook her head in disbelief. "When she and I had sex ... it was something cheap, and sordid, and dirty by comparison and _my_ _god_ I miss fucking her now."

"Don't worry," said the Doctor, kneeling beside her on the floor. "There's plenty of room for kink in a healthy sex life. And you've never shagged while pregnant before, have you? I'm sure if we put our minds to it, we can come up with something suitably depraved."

"I suppose."

The Doctor thought for a moment. "What exactly did you say about Mr. Throbby?"

"I believe I offered to sodomize you vigourously and repeatedly," the Master said, starting to perk up. "It won't do a damned thing to get me pregnant, but it _will_ be a lot of fun. For me, anyway."

"Are you sure this is what you really want?"

The Master rolled towards the Doctor and punched him solidly in the face. Then she rose, snatching her thong from the grating along with the jar containing the Doctor's hand. Looms, she thought, straightening her skirt and heading out the TARDIS doors. Time to look forward to her future – a thoroughly certain future – of consequence-free shagging, asexual reproduction, and an army of evil Time Tots, all of whom, she was determined, would be sure about everything they did.


End file.
